


Sparring

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Bestiality, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Play Fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Tifa was one of the few members of Avalanche he still saw with some regularity.  She always found reasons to make the trip to Cosmo Canyon--this time she wanted to train for a fighting tournament.There were certainly no ulterior motives at all.  None whatsoever.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Red XIII | Nanaki
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35
Collections: Teratophilia Trade 2020





	Sparring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nununununu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/gifts).



Silhouetted by the fading sun, she kicked at an invisible foe.

She moved with measured, methodical motions, well-practiced and automatic. He stared at her with his good eye as she practiced her form. Her skin glistened with sweat, from the heat of the desert or from her exertions, and he admired the way her body worked, muscle groups that tensed when she blocked an imagined blow or responded with a strike.

She finished with a flourish, a leaping, spinning kick that let him see _everything_ of her. She landed, straightened, stood facing him stock still. For only a second, then she took in a deep breath, and wiped away some of the hair that had been pasted to her face with sweat. “Well?”

“Beautiful.” He said as she walked across the rocky mesa they were on, sitting next to her neatly-folded shirt, skirt, and various other bits of clothing, near the spot they laid a bedroll. She drew her knees up and coiled her arms around them, preventing him from seeing her.

“Beautiful?” She asked, a smirk across her face. “I was going for…

“Sexy?”

“Flawlessly-executed.” She corrected, though her smile widened. “But I like what you have to say better.”

He stood on all fours, stretching a little as he approached her. Her heart was beating fast, and intermingled with sweat he could smell the beginnings of _want_. Tifa made fairly frequent visits to Cosmo Canyon, at least in comparison to how often he saw the others. It was always a special event when she did.

She came to “train”. Someone in Edge was hosting a martial arts tournament, that she signed up for. Although Tifa likely could’ve won blindfolded, she had decided she needed a break to train at some place that would push her. A high mesa near Cosmo Canyon seemed ideal.

She certainly had no ulterior motive in picking this location to train, or her old friend Nanaki for a sparring partner.

As she reached out, running a hand along his face, scratching the side of his snout in a not-unpleasant way, leaning back enough to expose a breast to him, he let out a growl.

Definitely no ulterior motive.

She drained a bottle of water, and her breathing had slowed a bit when she stood back up, stretching her arms above her head. “Okay, I think it’s time to practice against an opponent.”

The fight wasn’t exactly full contact, but wasn’t exactly playing at it either. They weren’t _trying_ to seriously harm the other, but a pounce from him, a strike from her, they left an impact. He was trying to push her, and she was pushing back. While practicing forms, she was almost mechanical, every motion its own. Sparring? She moved gracefully, stringing motions together with feints with speed, while losing none of that technical perfection.

And she was _distracting_.

That was the only reason she threw so many kicks that sailed over his head. Pirouetting away when he… too late… tried to capitalize on the miss. He managed to bowl her over once, pinning her down with one of his paws, claws out just enough to cause her breath to hitch. He leaned in, close to her neck, and licked her face, before backing up. She sprang back to her feet. "Point to you."

They kept at it; and she was more careful, more evasive. A charge led to her diving out of the way, and as he turned to face her, she swatted his snout lightly with an open palm. He was getting a little frustrated, as she danced around him. Eventually he just pounced, paws outstretched but claws retracted, intending on pinning her to the ground; he forgot just _how_ good she was at using an opponent’s momentum against them—he wound up sprawled on this back, one forearm planted on his throat, and her other hand running along his belly until she found a vulnerable point. He mewled when fingers coiled around his cock—not hard or painful, precisely the opposite. 

And then off of him. He rolled back to all fours, and approached where she sat, legs spread, grinning wildly. “Think that's enough for now."

She sat on the ground, leaning backwards on her elbows, legs spread wide. He was taking his time, starting at her neck and working down. He lapped at her skin, good eye closed as he focused on the scents and sounds and taste of her. This was their game, how they usually played it. His mouth drifted down, nipping at her collarbone, making her moan when he found a breast. One of her hands was tangling itself in his mane, the other was between her legs.

The sound and smell of her playing with herself was amazing. Never ceased to be.

He had shifted his focus from her other breast and was nosing at her navel when she shifted, sat upright and planted a hand—on wet with herself—against his flank. He looked up at her quizzically. “Tifa?”

He wondered if he had done something wrong—nipped a little too hard, even though the sounds she’d made indicated she _liked_ that. She dispelled that notion by shifting, twisting, and kneeling on all fours, facing away from him. Two fingers of her right hand stroked either side of her vagina, framing a target. She usually wanted a _little_ more foreplay.

He slowly stepped forward, planting a forepaw on either side of her shoulders. She blindly reached, guiding his cock against her vagina. Wet and hot. He exhaled sharply against the back of her neck, causing a slight tremor in her. Slowly, fighting instincts to drive all the way in one swift motion, he pressed forward. She rocked her hips back hissing slightly as she was stretched by his cock.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Her constant comments on his size made him a little wary, even if it always ended well for both of them.

“Nn—yeah. I’m fine.” She turned her head, hair streaming down as she looked up at him out the corner of his eye. His snout pressed against her cheek, and she nodded. “Really, it’s good.”

He eased himself out slightly, feeling her tense up a little as she did so. When just the tip was left, he pushed in again. The moan and shudder he got from her this time was definitely one of pleasure, and that spurred him on. He picked up the pace—slowly, agonizingly increasing the speed he moved and the depth he pushed inside of her.

She let out clipped, breathless encouragements intermixed with moans and whines that spurred him on further. Tifa had been right. This felt wonderful.

She was louder and louder now, and he’d forgotten any concerns that had slowed him—his paws shifted from the ground to her shoulders, pressing her into the dirt as he kept driving in to her. She clawed the ground as he thrust, letting out a lyrical cry as she came around him.

He pulled out, and she lay boneless and limp, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He pressed his snout against her shoulder, rolling her around onto her back. Brushing away hair that was in front of her eyes, she looked up at him, curious. “You didn’t finish.”

“Want to try something.” He said, licking her forehead. She presented herself, all fours. Let him mount her. Fuck her into the ground. Humans equated that with how beasts mated—they had put a _lot_ of thought as to how to have sex. But the woman on back, the male between her legs seemed to be the most common way humans rutted… made love.

She came for him like an animal. Somehow it felt fair to try fucking her like a man for once

It was awkward, trying to line up with her body prone, low to the ground. Luckily she realized what he was trying to accomplish and shifted a little, planting her feet on the ground and raising her lower body up. It still took him a few missed tries to enter her—no easing in this time. He was up to the hilt at once when he finally found the right angle.

“Stop.”

He froze. Had he gone to hard? He began silently cursing himself—they had been wonderful together when she was on all fours, and he _had_ to try being clever with her, and now…

“This is… hm…” Tifa said, not pained, just… trying to figure something out. “Can you… hold on.”

He was about to ask what she was trying to do when something hard pressed against his spine, right before his haunches. Her right ankle; she had wrapped her leg around him. Her left quickly joined it. “Okay… I think we’re good to go.”

It wasn’t a natural position for either of them, but he managed to get her to moan and a he let out a low, throaty rumble. She stroked his head and neck with her hands, tightened her legs around him. He lapped at her face, and she kissed his snout.

It didn’t last long—he’d been close when he decided to flip her over. But it was wonderful nonetheless, pressing himself against her body as her hands found _that_ spot behind his right ear. She hung on tighter as he kept thrusting into her, his growls drowning out her moans until he threw back his head and howled, feeling a thick _heat_ insde her, overflowing and running out of her.

“Was it good for you?” Tifa asked, running fingertips across the top of his head. He was curled up, head resting on her chest—softest part of her.

“Yes.” He said. “You on your back was… a little…”

Difficult? Awkward? Unnecessary?

“A bit.” She said. She smelled of sweat, smoke, of her and of him. “But we managed. Next time we can figure out something else."

They were silent for a good long time, last of the daylight having long since faded, the starts drifted overhead, and new light breaking by the time he nipped her to get her attention. "Ready for another round?"

She didn't have to ask if he meant of sparring or sex, because she was game for both. "Sure."

By the time she headed back to Edge, he decided he'd make the trip with her. After all, he wanted to wish her luck, and see how he had helped her.

No ulterior motives. None at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was to your liking. If it wasn't please let me know!


End file.
